


Alone At Last

by da_petty



Series: The Amorous Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Embarrassed John Watson, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff and Smut, Frustrated Sherlock, Groping, John Being a Cock Tease, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Public Masturbation, Revenge Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 18:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14218776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_petty/pseuds/da_petty
Summary: John and Sherlock are finally together but a long, abstinent visit to the Holmes Estate and constant cock teasing from John, soon causes Sherlock to take matters into his own hands.





	Alone At Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sairyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairyn/gifts).



> For my sweetie! I hope that it doesn't disappoint.

Holmes Estate

1 Year Later

***

John and Sherlock had been together - in every sense of the word - for a year now. They’d only gone public with their relationship six months ago so they were still getting comfortable with people knowing that they were an item. It galled Sherlock particularly because everyone had acted like it was old news, they’d just assumed that they’d been together all along. 

John had, to Sherlock’s surprise, taken everything in stride. Considering that he’d spent years denying that he was gay, Sherlock was amazed at how easily John had adapted to being “out”. John was very pragmatic that way. They were in a relationship now, so what? That still boggled Sherlock’s mind. He was definitely not that adaptable and he envied John his ‘go with the flow’ mentality.

Not that Sherlock gave a toss what other people thought of him in general or his relationship with John specifically. He had worried about John’s feelings though. He’d been so vocal, so adamant in his heterosexuality that Sherlock had expected him to feel awkward if anyone brought it up. Which was absolutely none of their business in the first place but still, Sherlock wanted to protect John and so he worried about John’s feelings constantly. 

This was a new experience for Sherlock. He’d never worried about anyone’s feelings before, not even his own. Certainly he had feelings but he’d never worried about them or agonized over them as other people seemed to do. Now, though, John was his entire world and he wouldn’t see him hurt just because they now shared a bed.

Sherlock had taken awhile to get used to John’s public displays of affection, which were offered freely and often. That had made Sherlock uncomfortable - at first - but now, he couldn’t imagine a time when he hadn’t been able to casually touch John in a way that was not obscene but clearly wasn’t platonic either. 

Sherlock had always noted that John was very considerate of his most recent date’s feelings and visibly affectionate. ‘Touchy feely’, a term Sherlock had learned of only recently but once he knew what it meant, he realized that that was the perfect summation of being the object of John’s affection. The heated glances, the casual touches here and there. John seemed especially attracted to Sherlock’s arse. He was always running a palm over his buttocks - even in public - although he was always very discrete. 

It had changed Sherlock’s behavior as well. He’d become a bit paranoid about John standing behind him. Particularly at crime scenes where Sherlock was often bent over or crouched close to the ground, gathering data. 

John couldn’t keep his hands off of Sherlock and although the touches were covert. Sherlock was beginning to think that John considered it a challenge to fondle Sherlock in public without getting caught. Donovan and Anderson both watched Sherlock like hawks, they’d be the first to realize what was going on. It was almost as if John got off on taking those kinds of risks.

It had shocked Sherlock, in fact, it still shocked him, to be in the middle of a deduction and suddenly feel a hand on his arse or a casual brush against his genitals. It was exciting but also frustrating and he’d spoken to John about controlling himself in public on more than one occasion. John had always agreed but the very next time they were out and about, he’d feel John’s hand on his back as it slowly slid down until his fingertips were just inside the waistband of his trousers, then pants. Fingers sliding back and forth against the naked skin. 

Sherlock had lost count of the times that was he left with an inappropriate hard on whilst on a case. He’d again ask John to stop - admittedly, half-heartedly - only to feel John sliding a hand into Sherlock’s pocket, fingers smoothing against his well defined hipbone, the very next time that they were out. 

The first time that they’d gone out to dinner as a couple, Sherlock was startled by the feeling of John’s stockinged foot pressing against his groin until Sherlock thought he’d go mad from the frustration. He’d looked at John, casually sipping his wine, looking for all the world as if he wasn’t masturbating Sherlock with his foot beneath the table. That sultry smirk the only evidence of his bad behavior.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was left struggling to control his breathing and trying to ignore his blue balls that had become increasing more painful as the dinner went on. Still, they seemed to go out to eat more often these days and the sex when they were behind closed doors was amazing. 

Eventually, Mycroft had seen fit to inform their parents of John and Sherlock’s relationship and the following Christmas they were asked to stay at the Holme’s Estate over the holidays. They’d been there for three weeks now and in that time, although there’d been a lot of kissing and fondling of each other’s genitals, as soon as Sherlock wanted to go the next step, John shied away saying that he wasn’t comfortable having sex with so many Holmes about. 

Sherlock’s cock was always hard now or, at the very least, half-mast. The worst part was that John was still playing that game of inappropriately touching Sherlock when others were around. 

Dropping something on the floor in the kitchen and bending down to pick it up while conveniently in front of Sherlock and everyone else had their backs turned. John would take a moment to look up at Sherlock while down there, giving him a seductive look and licking his lips then standing back up before anyone had noticed. 

He’d brush behind Sherlock and rub his own erection against Sherlock’s arse, giving a subtle thrust on his way by. It was absolutely maddening and Sherlock had reached his limit with all of this teasing. They were going to have sex, and have it soon. Holmes be damned!

Going on to the fourth week - how long were they supposed to stay here anyhow - Sherlock began carrying packets of lube with him in the pocket of anything he put on. Coat pocket. Pajama bottoms. The deep pockets of his robe. The first opportunity he got, he was taking John then and there and he was going to be prepared for any situation, by god. 

It just so happened that on this night, everyone had been sitting around the fireplace, quietly chatting. Sherlock rolling his eyes and wishing to hell that they’d all go to bed and leave he and John alone together. They’d been cuddled up next to each other on the sofa, a blanket covering them. 

Naturally, John had taken advantage of this camouflage and immediately put a hand into the fly of Sherlock’s pajama bottoms and had kept it there ever since, stroking his cock just often enough that he’d never lost his erection. 

Sherlock was unable to concentrate and had answered rudely whenever someone tried to include him in the conversation. This being common, no one questioned what had him so on edge. Why wouldn’t they stop talking! It was 10pm, way past their bedtimes!

Mycroft had headed up an hour ago, thank god. An entire month with blue balls AND Mycroft? It was just too much. Sherlock needed to fuck John. Tonight!

“Well, dear, it’s getting late. Your father and I are going to head up to bed. What are you two going to do?” His mother asked as she stood up to leave.

This question left Sherlock non-plussed trying to make up an answer for so long that John had filled in the silence and answered for him.

“We’re just going to sit here by the fire and enjoy each other’s company for awhile longer.”

“I might read this book by...” Sherlock said, picking up a random book that had been left on the coffee table.

“...Laurell K. Hamilton?” He said, absolutely clueless as to what the book was about.

“Really, dear? Are you a fan of Anita Blake? I wouldn’t have thought that.” His mother said with an amused smile on her face.

Sherlock turned to the back of the book and read the synopsis.

“Um. Yes. Vampires. They’re all the rage and I just wanted to find out what was so interesting. Actually, sounds stupid. I probably won’t even read it.” He said, dropping the book with a thud.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” She said, picking up the book and placing it back on the the coffee table. 

His parents gave their goodnights and left - finally! Sherlock reached down and disengaged John’s hand from his penis.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sherlock huffed.

“Snuggling. What else?” John said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Snuggling like that in public is considered indecent exposure in some places!”

“Not this place though, yeah? Besides, blanket.” John said, leaning over to kiss Sherlock on the side of his mouth.

“You’ve been a terrible cock tease the entire time we’ve been here, John. My testicles have been drawn up so tight for so long that it might require exploratory surgery to find them!” 

“Oh, I can find them and I know just where to look.” John said, putting his hand over Sherlock’s cock - again.

“Stop that!” Sherlock said, slapping at John’s hand.

“Fine. Fine. Let’s just lay down on the sofa and have a cuddle together. I promise to be good.” John wheedled.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Come on. You’re the taller one so you’re in back.” John said as he pushed Sherlock back down on the sofa until he supine. 

After arranging body to his satisfaction, John said, “I can’t fit if you don’t lay on your side.” And Sherlock had turned onto his side - begrudgingly.

“I’ll lay in front of you, just so.” John lay on his side in front of Sherlock and moved Sherlock’s arms until they were encircling him.

“There. Isn’t this nice?” John asked.

“Not really. No.”

“How about now?” And then John wiggled his arse against Sherlock’s finally deflating cock. Nope. There it was. At full attention again.

“John. This isn’t helping.”

“That’s because you need to relax.” John reached down and drew the blanket back over them.

“It’s difficult to relax when my cock is all but up your arse.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport. Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet and the fireplace.”

Sherlock took a moment to glance about to confirm that they were indeed, finally, amazingly alone.

“Ok.” Sherlock said as he began kissing John behind his ear knowing that was one of John’s weak spots.

“That’s nice.” John murmured and again pushed his bum against Sherlock’s cock, this time keeping it firmly in place. 

Attempting to gain a little relief, Sherlock began thrusting against John’s arse.

“I want you so badly, John and have done the entire time we’ve been here.” Sherlock whispered in between kisses.

Sherlock lifted the arm covering John and covertly reached into his pocket for the lube.

“What are you doing? I was enjoying that hug.” John said, with a smile in his voice.

“My arm was going to sleep. I just need to shake it out.” Then Sherlock brought his hand up to his mouth, ostensively to cover a cough, but actually taking the opportunity to quietly tear the packet open with his teeth, using his lips to squeeze the lube from the packet and onto his fingers..

“I’d think that the arm I’m laying on would be the one to fall asleep.” John said.

“Well, be that as it may, that doesn’t change the fact that my arm was asleep and is now coming back to life with pins and needles.”

Making a move to get up, John said, “Oh. I can help you get the blood flowing again.”

“Trust me. The blood’s flowing just fine. In fact, I have a surplus of blood at the moment. I’m just going to rest my arm behind you for a bit while the feeling comes back.” 

Sherlock curled his lubed fingers up so as not to get them anywhere other than his goal.

He leaned back over and began kissing John’s neck, then moved to his earlobe, sucking and then lightly biting it.

“God. That feels so good. More.” John sighed.

Sherlock obliged while simultaneously running the afore mentioned trapped hand to brush over John’s nipple.

“I can’t wait until you can fuck me again.” 

“Why wait?” Sherlock asked as he slid his hands inside John’s pajama bottoms. Hmm...he wasn’t wearing any pants. This was going to be a lot easier than he’d originally thought. It helped that he was sans pants as well.

“No. No. No.” John said, crushing Sherlock’s hand between his arse and Sherlock’s cock.

“This isn’t the time or place and besides, we’re not prepared.”

“But I am, John.” Sherlock slid his fingers down John’s arse and upon reaching his hole, slowly slid a finger into that tight ring of muscle.

“Sherlock! What are you....oh. Ooh.” John moaned as Sherlock began gliding in and out of his hole.

“Why, John, I’m getting ready to do this.” And added a second finger to the first, making scissoring motions as he readied John for his cock.

“Oh god! We can’t! What if someone sees us?” John said with an anxious moan.

“No one is going to see us. Mycroft went to bed hours ago and my parents have been gone for 45 minutes now. Plus, we’re covered by this blanket that you so considerately placed over us. We’re alone, John. Finally. And I’m done being teased. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you tonight.” Then Sherlock added a third finger, causing John to sigh and press his tight arse further down until all three fingers were knuckle deep.

“How?”

“John. Really? You need me to tell you how I’m going to fuck you?” Sherlock pumped his fingers in and out of John twice more and then moved his hand back up to John’s waistband, hooking his thumb inside and roughly pushing the pajama bottoms down until they were beneath John’s sweet arse.

Sherlock reached for the lube that he’d conveniently left on the back of the sofa and using his teeth, squeezed out the remainder onto his hand. Curling up his fingers again, he quickly shoved his pajama bottoms down, until both his cock and balls were exposed. 

This had happened so quickly that John barely got a chance to protest before Sherlock had already lubed his cock and was now using his hand to guide it into John’s hole followed by thrusting into John deeply. He had done with waiting.

“Oooh. God. That feels so good! Fuck me, Sherlock! Fuck me!” 

Sherlock moved his hand to John’s hipbone holding it so tightly that there were sure to be bruises in the shape of his fingerprints the next day.

“Pull your knees up so that I can go deeper!” Sherlock groaned. 

As soon as John had complied, Sherlock pulled John back and impaled him on his cock fucking him without care or conscience about the rough treatment of John’s arse.

Each slam into John was followed by his deep moan as the blanket slid down from their exuberance.

“You’ve been a bad boy, John. Four weeks worth of foreplay? That wasn’t very *thrust* Nice *thrust* of you, now *thrust* was *thrust* it?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not sure that I could stop now if I wanted to. And *thrust* I *thrust* don’t *thrust* want to!”

“Grab my cock, Sherlock!”

“Nope.” 

John reached down to touch himself and was stopped by a firm hand on his wrist.

“See. Here’s the thing, John. You’ve teased me for over a month. Gave me blue balls, in fact. I didn’t even know that was a thing before now and I could have lived the rest of my life content without that knowledge, thank you. 

I’ve asked you time and again and still you continued on as if I hadn’t said a thing.” Sherlock pulled out and began fucking John with just the head of his cock on one stroke, penetrating him fully with the next.

“So here’s what going to happen. I’m going to fuck you until I come inside of you. I’m going to come in you so hard and so deeply that it will be days before it leaks out of you.” 

Sherlock had begun slamming into John during this entire speech and he was close. Very close.

“And guess what? You’re not allowed to come. Not this time, John. That’s what happens to a merciless cocktease. Welcome to my world.”

“No! Sherlock! Please! I have to come. I NEED to come!”

“Sorry. Maybe later. A lot later.” 

Sherlock was about to come when they heard an upstairs door open and steps heading downstairs.

“Blanket! Blanket! Blanket!!” John quietly exclaimed while grabbing the just barely remaining edge of the blanket, until they were both covered. He gave a sigh of relief.

However, Sherlock was still fucking John, albeit with subtle moves, but he was close enough that he was sure that he could come this way. John whimpered.

“John! Hush and take it like a man!” Sherlock said, sliding into John once again.

“Stop! Someone’s coming!” John whispered.

“Almost.” 

“Sherlock?” His mother called out.

“Yes, mum?” Sherlock said, his voice hoarse.

“Are you coming down with a cold?” She said, walking into the living room where both John and Sherlock lay on the sofa.

“No mummy. I’m fine.” Sherlock said sliding into John so subtly as to be unnoticeable. By anyone besides John, that is.

“You’re both sweating! Let’s take that hot blanket off of you.” She said, reaching out to pull the blanket.

“No!” Sherlock and John said simultaneously.

“It’s fine. Really. Thank you though.” Sherlock said, still lightly rocking against John’s arse any time his mother glanced away.

“Well, at least let me fix you both a cool drink.” She said, heading into the kitchen.

“No worries, Mrs Holmes. We’re *uhh* fine.” John said in the middle of Sherlock sliding into him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Yes. Mummy. We’re fine.” It was now a race against Sherlock coming before his mother reentered the living room. He knew that if he didn’t come now, the opportunity wouldn’t occur again until they’d gotten home. He was definitely coming now.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god! Sherlock, please! Your mother could come back at any moment!” John whispered.

“Uhnnn.” Sherlock moaned, holding John still while he pulsed inside of him. It was possibly the best, strongest orgasm in his life and he collapsed against John with a sigh as the last drop left his body and entered John’s.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? I made tea.” She said as she walked in, gesturing with her mug.

“No. God no! For the love of god, will you please go back to bed!!” Sherlock all but shouted.

“Mind your manners, Sherlock. I didn’t raise you to speak to me that way.” His mother said sternly.

“Sorry, mummy. It’s just so rare these days that John and I get some time alone here.” John just lay in a daze, saying nothing as he felt Sherlock’s cock slide out of him.

“Well, Sherlock. Try using your bedroom for this ‘alone time’ that you’ve been having for the past hour and a half. Your father and I would like to get to sleep sometime tonight.” 

“I second that motion!” Mycroft shouted from the top of the stairs.

“I third it!” Their father shouted down.

With a little laugh, she said, “Goodnight, dears. Get some rest and don’t leave any...clues for anyone to find tomorrow morning.” And with that, she left the living room and they listen to her footsteps as she went to her room. The sound of one door softly snicking closed was following by the loud bang of another door closing.

“MYCROFT!” His parents yelled through the door.

“Sorry, mummy.” They heard him answer.

“Oh god. We’re never going to hear the end of this.” John groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“People have sex, John. It’s not a secret.”

“Not with their mother in the room, they don’t! I’m going to die from embarrassment. I can feel it.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mycroft will keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s what’s good for him.” 

“What could you possibly have on him that would keep him silent?”

“Why, I’ll just say that I caught Mycroft in the hot house with the gardener bent over the flowerbeds.”

“Is that true?” John asked, somewhat amazed. Mycroft had had sex before? Who knew?

“Of course it’s true. Why would I make something like that up? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Just know that he wouldn’t like our parents to find out.”

“I seriously doubt that you could use a youthful indiscretion to blackmail him into keeping quiet, Sherlock.”

“Oh no. You have it all wrong. This was when we were here last year. Why do you think I wanted to leave so quickly? Besides sex! You can’t unsee something like that. So, if he starts with his snide remarks tomorrow, I’ll just ask mummy what fertilizer the gardener has been using to create such large blooms on the hot house roses. In January.”

“You’re a scary man, sometimes, Sherlock.” John said, half jokingly.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Sherlock said as they began the process of cleaning up.

“I could also mention the time that I caught Mycroft having sex with cook over the butcher block. Very unsanitary. And then, another time, I caught him...”

“Please,” John said, holding up a hand. “Spare me the details.”

John quickly escaped and the last thing that he heard as he was heading upstairs was,

“Ok. Shall I tell you about the time that I caught Mrs Hudson...”

John slammed their bedroom door. This was followed immediately by a trio of Holmes shouting, “JOHN!” From behind closed doors.

“Sorry!” John called back sheepishly, sliding between the cold sheets, almost asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

However, John’s subconscious was wide awake and so he dreamed that he’d actually died of embarrassment and the cops were poking at his nude body that was, for some reason, laying arse end up, over the flower beds in the hot house. 

‘Shame, really. So young.’ The officer shook himself. ‘Oh well. Life goes on, yeah?’ The cop said as if John had just left the party early. Which, in a sense, he guessed that he had. 

’Sherlock, can you tell us the cause of death?’ Said the officer, pulling a pencil from behind his left ear, licking the tip and waiting for Sherlock’s pearls of wisdom to write in his trusty notebook. 

‘Certainly. But first, let me tell you about the time John was caught shagging me on the side of the road...’

Oh lord. Not again.


End file.
